They Called Him Sniper
by kronosdragon
Summary: He signed the contract. He rode the train. He didn't really understand anything that was about to happen to him. All he knew was that they called him Sniper, and that he was not to disclose his real name to anyone...Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1 - Bonne Nuit, Mon Ami

**They Called Him Sniper**

A TF2 Fanfiction written by kronosdragon

_Disclaimer: I do not own TF2 or any of its affiliated characters, brands or logos._

"Do you understand the Terms of Agreement, Mr. Starke?"

"Yeah."

"And you understand that this contract binds you to at least three years of service to the Reliable Excavations and Demolitions corporation?"

"...Yeah."

"Then just sign here along the dotted lines, Mr. Starke…"

"Please, just call me Allen."

"Oh no, if anything, you'll be going by your handle from now on."

The tall bushman finished signing his name on the two documents before him and looked up at the pencil-figured old woman behind the desk, her frame silhouetted by the bars of light filtering through the blinds that covered the windows of her fifteenth-story office. A single cigarette lay smoking in the ashtray in front of her interlaced fingers.

"And that would be?" he questioned, peering at her from behind his yellow aviators.

Her stern face gave only the slightest hint of a grin forming at the corners of her lips.

"Sniper."

Allen nodded.

"Understood, ma'am."

"Good. Your train will arrive tomorrow, at 3:00pm. Here is your ticket," said the woman, sliding a piece of thick paper in front of Allen with his ticket information printed on it. "Take one of those documents with you for your records."

"Yes'm."

Allen picked up his hat from the chair and put it back on his head, giving the lady - who had referred to herself as "The Announcer" - a nod before turning to leave.

"See you on the battlefield, Mr. Starke," she said, a soft chuckle rising from her throat as the door shut behind him.

He awoke the next morning, his left knee aching. He raised his head up off the pillow, only to let it drop back down after seeing that the sky beyond his window was grey and distorted from the trickles of water running down the panes of glass. He groaned and palmed his eyes, rubbing away the dryness that sleep usually left him with. He finally mustered up the energy to sit up and stretch, scratching the fuzz on his chest as he looked toward the clock. 11:29am. Odd. He was usually up earlier than that. No matter. He would be getting up plenty early from now on.

Allen swung his legs out of bed and lifted himself onto his feet. He searched his closet for the uniform he was told to wear upon arriving to the station, or he would not be allowed on the train. The Announcer had stated that his room would be fully outfitted with enough uniforms for the work week, and that all he needed to bring were the basics like casual clothing, sleepwear (which he didn't need), and toiletries like his toothbrush and comb.

He packed up what few belongings he had, including his wallet and a collection of crumpled sepia-toned photos from his past jobs. He got dressed in the RED uniform, complete with leather vest and work boots. He looked over the document that he had signed the previous evening, reading over it again as he placed his hat on his head. It fully went over what his job would be, what hours he would be working, and how many coworkers he had. It also briefly explained the reason he was being recruited; some kind of sibling rivalry that had turned into a full-out war between the two Mann brothers. It wasn't much his business, so he didn't care too much to read into it. He looked over the part just above where he had signed. It read, "I understand these Terms of Agreement, and by signing this contract, I understand the risks of the job I am applying for."

He looked at his hastily-written signature.

"What have I gotten myself into…?"

He looked back over the document again and again on his way to the train station. He was assured that his home and belongings would be protected during the time that he was enlisted. That gave him little peace of mind, however, and decided to lock everything up tight. He made sure every window was closed up, every door and even the attic hatch. He kept everything under padlock, burying the keys in the hard outback soil, beside a thorny shrub that hid one of the basement windows. He double checked that it, too was locked and shut tight before he had left.

He chewed on the toothpick in his mouth. He was trying to quit smoking, and toothpicks filled the void that was left by the habit of sticking a cigarette in his mouth to calm his nerves. He walked past several people, all of which looked at him funny, for while they were dressed in business suits or casual clothing, he looked like he was getting ready to go hunting. In a sense, he was, but not for any kind of game that ran around on four legs…

The train ride was long and uneventful. Wherever they were taking him, it was far from civilization. He was alone, sitting in the rickety passenger car with his suitcase between his feet. The windows were tinted to the point where one couldn't see out of them. They must not have wanted him to know where the destination was, though from the 8 hour ride, he assumed it was too far for him to even care. When the train finally stopped, the doors all seemed to open of their own accord with a hiss of steam. He stood up, picking up his suitcase and heading toward the rush of cool, fresh air that swept from beyond the door.

Allen was greeted by a short woman in a pencil skirt and round glasses, her dark hair done up in a loose bun. She adjusted her glasses, the light from the train car glinting off of them.

"Sniper," she stated, looking down at a manila folder in her hands, rifling through the various papers within.

"Yeah?" Allen asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"You will come with me, please," she said, turning and pacing away toward a gate enclosing what looked to be an abandoned outpost. The buildings looked shoddy and beaten up, the wooden structures coated in red dust and blast marks. The woman wasn't focused on the imposing buildings, however. She was scanning her eyes in front of an electrified gate. Allen could hear the gate powering down as the heavy bolts holing it shut slid into the locking mechanism. The woman looked over her shoulder and urged him forward with a nod of her head. As soon as he passed through the gate, it swung shut and locked itself behind him. He jumped as it hissed before humming back to life.

"Please keep up, Sniper."

"Guh…"

Allen tipped his hat down over his face, hiding his embarrassment at being startled so easily.

"Can I uh…can I get a name, miss?" he asked. The silence was killing him, and he felt the need to say something - anything - to break it.

"Pauling."

"Pauling?"

The woman gave no indication of hearing him. She was cold and very businesslike. Allen could tell that she was not the type to hold a decent conversation, so he gave up and let the eerie silence fall over him.

"Do not be so uneasy," Miss Pauling stated, as if they weren't walking through various darkened alleys around strange buildings. One could vaguely see that one had the company insignia of RED, but the other was too distant to see anything more than a black silhouette.

"Sorry, ma'am," Allen said. Even in the darkness, he refused to take off his sunglasses. He felt safer behind them, for some reason.

"You will eventually grow used to the silence at night. Your room lies up there," she said, pointing toward what looked like some sort of hidden room, blending into the walls of the building closest to them. It had only two windows, but they were facing the battlefield and offered a prime spot for him to sit.

"Believe me…the silence is better than the ruckus during the day."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see come Monday morning."

"Speaking of which, why is it that a war like this has…hours? I looked through the papers I signed, and it was almost like I was just filling out a resume," Allen asked. "Weekends and holidays off? Ceasefire after sundown?"

"You seem like a good man, so I'll let you in on a little piece of advice."

Miss Pauling turned and looked at him, standing still as a statue with a gaze just as unnerving as a statue's soulless eyes.

"Do not ask questions. Many who do, find answers that are better left undiscovered. Do you understand, Mr. Starke?"

Allen swallowed, his face set. What was with these people? So secretive…But it was not his job to look into secrets.

"…Yes'm."

"Good."

Miss Pauling turned and began leading him into the building, which could now be seen as having a wooden exterior, but almost completely metal interior. The halls were covered in sheet metal, dented in some places. Dusty boot prints tracked dirt into the hall, staining it reddish-brown up to a certain point, where a door marked the entrance to the building. Miss Pauling lowered her glasses and scanned her eyes once again. The door clicked, and she was able to turn the knob and open it. The din from beyond the door was almost deafening compared to the silence from the outside.

"Scout, you get back here zhis instant!"

"Why don't you make me, you Nazi wuss?"

"Leetle man should listen to doctor…"

"Shut yer yap, Heavy!"

"Hold still, schweinhund!"

Allen barely heard the door shut behind him over the banging and yelling going on in what appeared to be some sort of common room. An older man in a medical uniform was trying to chase down a half-naked young man with a syringe.

"It is mandatory zhat you receive your boosters!" he shouted in a thick German accent.

"What am I gonna catch out here? Besides, ya' know, your stupidity?"

The doctor ground his teeth and curled his fingers in the direction of the boy's throat, implying that if he were close enough, he'd choke him. A much bigger man, easily standing over six feet tall and looking to be made almost entirely of muscle, had somehow managed to grab the boy by the back of his trousers and was holding him in place. The boy, who seemed to have some sort of American accent, was throwing curses at him until he noticed that Miss Pauling and a stranger were standing in the entryway, watching the chaos.

"Miss Pauling!"

As soon as he noticed it, everyone else did, too. Well, all except the black man who appeared to be asleep in the corner with a bottle of rum resting beside him.

Taking advantage of this moment, the doctor quickly jabbed the needle into the boy's arm and injected whatever was in it into his system. The young man let out a yelp, but before he could break the needle with his quick reaction, the doctor had already pulled away and tossed the syringe in the garbage.

"Ow! Dickwad!"

"Vatch your language, ve are in ze presence of a lady," he scolded.

Scout mumbled under his breath as Miss Pauling cleared her throat.

"Gentlemen, this is your new Sniper."

She turned to Allen.

"Sniper, these are…well, a _few_ of your new teammates."

She gestured to the jumpy young man.

"This is Scout."

Scout just gave a short wave before going back to rubbing the bruise on his arm.

"Heavy."

The big man gave a hearty smile and placed his hands on his hips.

"Medic."

The doctor clicked his heels together and gave a short bow.

"And…er…Demoman."

Scout walked over and kicked the black man's boots.

"Hey rummy, wake up and smell the fresh meat," he said.

The Demoman looked up with one eye, the other being concealed behind a black eye patch. He raised his bottle to Allen before taking another swig of it and going back into a drunken slumber.

"Er…"

Allen rubbed the back of his neck.

"Who are the rest?" he asked.

"Solly and the masked demon from hell already went to bed," Scout said.

"What?" Allen asked, confused.

"Soldier and Pyro," Miss Pauling stated, though that cleared little up for him. "What of Spy and Engineer?" she asked them.

"Engie's out in his shed as usual, tinkerin' and whatnot. Spy, who fuckin' knows?"

"Language!" Medic snapped.

"I'm sure you'll meet the rest of the team by Monday, then. You'll have time to get to know them tomorrow. For now, I suggest you go to your room and rest. Medic, you will affix his chip, please."

"Jawol," Medic said with a nod.

"The rest of you, behave yourselves."

She looked around before leaving, the door clicking shut behind her. The men looked at each other in silence for a moment before Medic produced yet another syringe from his lab coat.

"Come here, if you vould," he said.

Allen reluctantly approached the doctor, who proceeded to quickly sanitize an area of skin just beneath his shirt sleeve. He quickly poked the needle under Allen's skin and injected a small, hard capsule.

"That stings a bit, mate," Allen said with a wince.

"Trust me, it vill hurt less zhan dying."

"Uh…"

"You don't know?"

Medic turned and looked at Heavy, then at Scout as the boy begin to laugh.

"He doesn't fuckin' know!" Scout said.

"Zhis is no laughing matter!"

Medic looked at Allen.

"What did you sign up to do, mein freund?"

"A job that involves doin' what I do best, I suppose," Allen replied.

"You signed up to die over an' over, old man!"

Allen turned and looked at Scout.

"I ain't that much older 'n you, mate," he said softly. "But, whaddya mean, 'die over an' over?'"

"Vhat I injected you vith is a computer chip that sends your DNA information to, vhat ve call, 'Respawn'. It brings you back from zhe dead if you are mortally wounded in battle," Medic explained. "So long as you 'ave zhis chip, you vill not die, unless of course, somevun kills you after hours. Zhat, of course, happens on a very rare occasion. Usually somehow tied in vith zhe Spies…"

"Slow down, doctor," Heavy said in his thick Russian dialect. "Leetle Sniper is new. He will learn, da."

"You are right, I suppose."

Allen was trying to let it sink in, but he was getting a headache from all of the information being crammed into his head at once. He wouldn't die? He'd be brought back? He suspected that he would find out the hard way just what this all meant when Monday morning came around.

"You should go get some rest," Medic said shooing Sniper away. "Your bunk is up zhe ladder at zhe end of zhat hallvay," he said, pointing toward a gently-arcing hallway leading away from the common room.

"Roight," Allen said, his accent starting to really kick in the more tired he got. Scout snickered as Allen walked away, dragging his suitcase up the ladder that ended in a hatch. He tossed it open, coughing on a rain of red dust that was shaken loose from above.

He poked his head up, looking around at the dark room. There was no light, save for what little shone in from the stars outside his windows. He spotted a small blue dot traveling along the wall, curiously scanning the wall through the window. Allen kept his head down, unsure of what to make of the laser pointed into his room. He army-crawled across his floor and kicked the hatch shut, shimmying his suitcase under the bed against the wall. There was a bloodstain on the wall, where he could only assume that the previous Sniper met his end. The blue dot disappeared, and he slowly rose to his feet between the two windows, where the wall blocked anyone from seeing him. He cautiously peered around the corner before diving toward his bed, which was safely nestled out of harm's way. He panted softly, the bed creaking beneath him. He sighed and looked to the closet that was, oddly, behind the bed. He reached in and found that a long, cold rod met his fingers right where they groped at the wall. He wrapped his hand around it and pulled it from the darkness. A long, black-barreled sniper rifle was in his hand, the cold metal chilling his skin and raising goosebumps on his arms. He set his jaw as he looked it over. It looked to be old and well-used, but kept in pristine condition. He checked the chamber, and it held a single bullet. He set the weapon in his lap, and reached into the closet to search for anything else. His hand groped around in the dark closet for a while before finally coming to rest on a smooth wooden handle. The shape was almost familiar to him, and when he pulled the weapon from the closet, he realized why.

"A kukri?"

He balanced the blade in his hand, giving it a few swipes to test how it felt. It was slightly heavier than he expected, but he would no doubt be building some muscle while he worked here. After groping around a while more, he found a small SMG lying on the floor. He set it under his flat pillow, placing the kukri on the floor beside him and the sniper rifle against the wall next to his head where he could easily grab it. Once he felt set, he went about changing in the darkness of the closet, taking off his uniform and hanging it up. He hadn't really used it, so he didn't think it was too dirty to use later.

He laid on his bed and chewed on his toothpick, thoughtfully staring up at the ceiling as his sleepy mind kept running.

_I could really use a cigarette…_

"Cigarette?"

"No thanks, I'm trying to quit."

It took a moment for him to register that the voice came from something other than his psyche. He grabbed his knife and wildly slashed in the direction of the voice before leaping up onto his bed and balancing on the worn-out springs. He looked around, but saw nothing. He narrowed his eyes and peered into the darkness of his room. He remembered the Scout saying something about the team having a Spy, and he looked around for any vents. Seeing none, he decided that it must have been his weary mind playing tricks on him. He was set on this decision until a faint red shimmer caught his eye. He slowly approached the corner he had spotted it in, holding his knife so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"…Show yerself, bloke…"

He reached out and grabbed at the air, but found no purchase. He turned, but felt a soft prick against his back, just between his shoulders. An invisible force wrapped itself around his neck and put him in a headlock. If he weren't so startled, he could have easily thrown his attacker aside. However, given the circumstances, he had been caught off-guard and thus was more or less trying to keep his cool. He breathed heavily through his nose as the invisible force faded into an arm wrapped in a fine, pinstriped cloth. Allen blinked and grit his teeth as he felt that pricking sensation dig into his back.

"Shhh, mon ami, you will alert zhe true danger to your presence," a smooth voice cooed in his ear. The smell of tobacco was thick on the man's breath, and only made Allen yearn more for a cig than he already had.

Allen loosened up just enough to allow himself to be led back toward the wall beyond the view of the windows. He saw the blue dot tracing its way around his room once again before disappearing. Only when it was gone did the strong grip around his neck loosen. He heard a click and swish, turning slowly to see a masked man skillfully manipulating a butterfly knife in his hands. Allen rubbed his neck, looking the man up and down. He looked so wiry in his suit, so how did he manage to hold him in such a firm grip?

"Again, I will offer…cigarette?"

Allen looked at the flat case that the man produced from within his suit jacket, popping a white cigarette from the inside and placing it on his lips. He looked at Allen with an almost playful look in his silver-green eyes. Allen looked down before sitting on his bed. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, which was bristled up along the back of his neck. He held out his hand and took the cigarette that was placed against his fingers.

"Your accent," he began after accepting a light from the Spy, "you're French?"

"Oui," Spy replied, puffing on his own cig and blowing the smoke in rings above his head.

"Why in bloody 'ell would you jump a guy like that?" he said, shaking his head after taking a deep drag.

"It is in my nature," Spy said with a grin. "You will grow used to it, if you want to survive. Bonuses are earned by those who stick around and have good scores."

"…Scores?"

"Mhmm…"

The Spy took another drag off his cigarette, the smoke billowing out of his nose.

"Everyone is monitored, masseur. Kill-to-death ratios are zhe 'scores'. Zhe less deaths and zhe more kills, zhe better your chances of actually living to fulfill your term of service 'ere."

"I take it you acquired this info via snoopin' about?"

The Spy chuckled.

"Oui. I am quite skilled. Zhis pretty little number," he said, pulling out a long-barreled pistol, "is zhe result of much practice in playing 'ide and go seek."

"Gotcha…"

Allen finished his cigarette. He scratched at his chest sleepily.

"How long have you been here? I mean…fighting and whatnot."

"Almost two years."

"Do you get used to it?"

"Mmmm…"

Spy wasn't sure how to answer. He knew exactly what Sniper was talking about. Did he ever get used to killing someone over and over, seeing the same people day after day, some of which never coming back?

"Oui. You get used to it. Alzhough, it is 'ard, when you grow friendships with some of zhe ruffians 'ere, seeing one leave and…never return."

"What happened to the last bloke? The Sniper before me?"

"Shot in zhe dark."

Allen looked toward the stain on the wall."The enemy Sniper?"

"Surprisingly, no."

"Spy?"

"Non."

"Then-"

"It was suicide."

Sniper's breath caught in his throat.

"He offed himself?"

"Oui. 'E could not bear zhe constant struggle, day after day, living in fear of whether or not 'e would wake in the zhe morning. Zhe BLU Spy likes to fight dirty, and 'e enjoys picking off 'is enemies at zheir most venerable."

Allen shivered.

"But you should not worry so much about it right now. You only just got 'ere. You should be sleeping. I just wanted to introduce myself, but zhat turned sour when I noticed zhe BLU Sniper looking zhrough your window. 'E must 'ave seen zhe train arrive."

Allen nodded.

"Roight…"

"Per'aps tomorrow we can talk somewhere safer, and when we are both wide awake. I am quite zhe night owl, but you, I can see, are not."

Allen chuckled nervously.

"Yeah…"

"Bonne nuit, mon ami."

"Yeah…night."

The Spy pressed a button on his watch and disappeared into thin air, startling Allen for a moment until he saw the hatch to his bunk lift and close.

_A cloaking device?_

He shook his head and kicked his suitcase over the hatch after locking it. He laid back on his bed and shut his eyes, scratching his chest as he drifted off to sleep_._


	2. Chapter 2 - Welcome to the Team

**They Called Him Sniper**

_Chapter 2_

The sound of rapping met his ears early in the morning, followed by a bellowing voice from below his hatch, which nearly cast him from his bed.

"WAKE UP, MAGGOT!"

The voice was loud and commanding. Allen dragged himself out of bed, looking out the window to the deep red sky.

"If I have to come in there, I will!" came the voice again. Allen rolled his eyes. This kind of behavior was only fitting of a soldier. He kicked away his suitcase, sending it scraping across the rough wooden floor, and unlocked the hatch. He lifted it and looked down only to have a hard helmet smack him in the nose.

"Blimey!"

"Hmm…scrawnier than I was expecting…"

Allen, dazed, looked at the man standing over him in full soldier's garb, or what he assumed was soldier's garb. Must have been American.

"We'll get you beefed up soon enough. At ease, soldier!"

Allen groaned. He rubbed his nose, wiping away blood that had begun dripping down his lip.

"Whot in bloody - y'know what? Nevermind."

He dragged himself to his feet and stood over the slightly-shorter man. He could only assume that this was Solly, the Soldier of the RED team. He was a head shorter than Allen, but twice as thick, with hands that looked like they had broken more than one enemy in half.

"Solly, I take it?" Allen said, making it more of a statement than a question.

"Affirmative!"

Soldier looked up at him with a hard gaze, his face mostly cast in shadow by his helmet.

"And you are late for breakfast!" he said, his face contorting into a rather discomforting scowl, as if he were genuinely upset that Allen wasn't at breakfast.

"Uh…sorry?"

"Damn right you're sorry. Get your ass down there, pronto!"

Soldier then turned and hopped down the ladder. Allen looked down to see the man land rather roughly, but quickly recover and go about his way. Allen scratched his head and frowned.

"What a strange bloke…"

I hope the other three aren't that insane…

He walked up to his suitcase, which had come to rest against the wall behind the trap door. He dug around until he found a casual shirt and a pair of jeans. He wasn't sure when he was allowed to wear his casual clothes, though. He looked at his closet, then at the rumpled outfit in his hands. He sighed and decided that it was fine. It was Sunday, there was no real reason for him to wear his outfit if it was a day without fighting. He pulled on the grey shirt and buttoned his pants. He slid his belt through the loops and pulled on his work boots, stamping his heel into the floor to get his foot settled in right. Allen pulled the door up, climbing down the ladder and shutting it tight behind him. With the lock on the other side, however, he had no way of keeping it locked while he was away. This bothered him to a certain degree, but it wasn't like he owned anything worth stealing.

He dropped down the last few rungs, the dust on the bottom of his shoes scattering in a small cloud. He instinctively reached for his glasses, but his shirt had no front pocket. He sighed and looked back up the ladder, deciding against going back for the aviators and his hat. He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it and giving a small yawn. He'd had worse wake-up calls, but he was still unused to such a…forceful individual berating him for not being at breakfast. He wandered down the hall toward the common room, seeing that it was empty. He guessed that the mess hall was elsewhere, and realized that he hadn't the slightest clue where.

He hoped to see someone else as he wandered through various corridors. He came across the medical bay and a string of bedrooms with various class symbols emblazoned on the doors, a maze of twisting hallways, and a room with a red briefcase, but he didn't even get a whiff of food or grease or anything to let him know that he was getting close to the kitchens. Allen rubbed the back of his neck and grumbled as he came to another dead end. He felt a hand ghosting over his shoulder, and he turned quickly to grab the shirt of whoever was behind him. He saw a familiar masked face, silver-green eyes almost laughing at him. He breathed a heavy sigh and let go of the Spy's lapels.

"For god's sake," he breathed.

"Lost?" Spy asked, grinning.

"A bit, yeah…"

"I assume zhat Soldier gave you 'is warm welcome, no?"

Allen nodded.

"Said something about breakfast. I dunno, I'm still a bit fuzzy after he cracked me in the nose with that hard head of his," he laughed.

"'E 'as a tendency to not really care who or what gets in his way," Spy said as he took Allen's shoulder and spun him away from the dead end, gently leading him down the hall and back toward the common room. He then took Allen down a hallway to the left, which led to a flight of stairs going down. Once they hit the bottom, Allen could smell what could only be described as burning grease.

"I would suggest fixing your own breakfast," Spy said, adjusting his tie. "While zhe Texan and I can cook, zhe rest…pas tellement. Not so much."

He straightened his lapels as they came to a set of double doors.

"'Ere is where I leave you, monsieur."

"You already eat?"

"Oui. I 'ave some 'snooping' to do."

"Ah…right. Jus' stay outta my room, please?"

"Well, since you asked nicely…"

Spy gave him a wink and disappeared. Allen made note of the odd noise that his cloaking device made. If the enemy spy's cloak made the same noise, he would have to get used to the sound and develop a habit of listening for it. Spies were quite sneaky and stealthy, it seemed. Only befitting of their job, of course. He pushed open the doors to the mess hall, seeing that a pair of long tables held some new faces. Well, those that he could see. One was hidden behind an unnerving black gasmask, the black eyeholes glinting in the light. Allen could see that Scout was at the range, trying - and failing - to properly cook eggs, despite being aided by a short man in overalls.

Allen spotted a grungy old coffeepot half-filled with coffee. It was turned on, so he took that as a positive sign. He walked over and pulled an ordinary white coffee mug from the cupboard. It was slightly greasy on the handle, but not really enough to worry him. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped at it. It was lukewarm, telling him that it had been sitting for a while. Regardless, at least it wasn't too hot. He wandered over toward the very end of the second table, keeping to himself. Not far down was the creature with rubber skin and a fire axe strapped to its back. It looked at him, head tilted slightly.

"Huddah?"

Allen turned his head and looked at what he could only guess was a man. The gasmask made it hard for him to understand him, if he was.

"C…Come again?"

The suited monstrosity took the fireaxe off its back and started honing it with a whetstone.

"Huddahuh…Huh huddah huhuh…"

Allen slowly looked away.

"Uh…right. Hello to you, too."

He guessed that this was the Pyro, based off of Scout's description from last night. Of course, the full-body flame suit probably should have tipped him off. He looked over at the man helping Scout to fix a new batch of unburned eggs. He noticed that the man had a hand missing, with only some sort of metal cap covering the end. Various wires were set into his forearm, seeming to be plugged directly into his skin. By process of elimination, Allen decided that he must be the Engineer. He had to admit, the guy had remarkable patience to deal with Scout continuously failing and burning his eggs.

"Why can't we just turn the heat up and cook 'em faster?" Scout complained.

"That's how they burned last time, innit it?" the Engineer said, a thick southern drawl lacing his words.

"Well…yeah, I guess."

"Some things are okay to take slow, son," Engie said with a chuckle. He had laugh lines crossing his features as faint reminders of his seemingly gentle disposition, and they deepened as he smiled.

"There you go, now flip 'em, nice and easy."

Allen couldn't help but smile a bit. He liked the Engineer. He seemed like a nice enough guy.

"Hey, I think they're done!" Scout said, looking triumphant.

"Alright, just slide 'em onto the plate."

There was a shuffling of metal and ceramic before Scout sat down at the table, a fork in one hand and a plate of slightly-overdone eggs in the other.

"You forgettin' something, son?"

Scout had to think for a minute before getting up and turning off the stove.

"Sorry, Engie. I forgot."

Engie just patted him on the shoulder and let him go back to the table. Scout looked around the room.

"Where the hell is - Oh! There's the new cockfag!"

Engie turned and looked.

"Scout, you should really watch your mouth."

Scout snorted and started inhaling his eggs. Engie shook his head.

"Wouldn't hurt to learn some manners, either…"

Scout glowered at him, but didn't say anything more. Allen felt eyes on him, cautiously sipping his coffee. He tensed when the stout Texan plopped down next to him with a cup of coffee and a folded set of blueprints.

"So, you're the new blood, eh?"

He gave a laugh that could almost be described as…sadistic.

"You'll get used to this bunch. Some of us are more odd than others."

Allen gave a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, I see that."

Engie unfolded his blueprints and took out a silver pencil. He started scrawling various algorithms around the outline of what looked to be some sort of turret. Allen was an intelligent individual, but it was a different kind of intelligence. He could tell you how to survive in the harsh outback, but what he was looking at was just plain mathematical sorcery. Most of the math he was watching the Engineer write out was alien in nature to him. He sipped at his coffee while the man worked.

"What is that, mate?"

Engie looked up briefly.

"New design for one of my sentry guns. I'm trying to get the darned thing to set up properly, but something keeps hitchin' the process."

Allen decided it was best to just let the guy work, and question no further.

He decided against eating anything. He wasn't hungry, and he wanted to explore the base. The more familiar he was with the base, the better he would be able to move around when tomorrow came. He spent the day wandering the halls, eventually finding the bathrooms, shower room, more bedrooms, and a storage room. He kept his wits about him, cautiously peeking around corners and checking behind him. He hated being startled.

He was slinking through the hall toward the intel room when he heard the soft pad of leather in front of him. He saw no one, but his first instinct was to reach out and grab hold of whoever was there. He was expecting the RED spy, but when the cloak shimmered blue and the harsh, angled features of the BLU Spy decloaked, he knew he was in a mess of trouble. He ducked just in time to avoid being stabbed. The Spy wheeled around with a fluid movement and glared at him, balisong in hand. Allen slowly started to back away.

"Uhm…eheheh…wrong Spy," he said nervously. He silently swore that if he survived this encounter, he would wear his uniform every day and carry the kukri with him on his belt wherever he went.

The Spy grinned, seeing the fear in his enemy's eyes.

"So, zhis is zhe new Sniper? What a joke."

He laughed and gave a snort. He flipped the knife around in his hand, inching forward with each step that Allen took back. Allen clenched his fists and looked around for a way out.

"I'll have no issue gutting someone like you on zhe battlefield…but why give your team zhat handicap? I could just fix zhe problem right-"

"Rrragh!"

The Spy took a step back as Allen swung his fist forward, grazing the man's hooked nose. The Spy chuckled and sidestepped another swing with little effort. Allen reached out and grabbed the Spy's suit, which earned him a painful whollop in the crook of his elbow. He grumbled and grabbed the man with his other hand, pulling the stunned hand away and balling it into a fist. He swept the Spy's legs out from under him, tripping him up. Spy whipped his knife up and buried it into the back of Sniper's shoulder, making him cringe. Despite having buried the blade to the bone, his adversary did not relent and instead tumbled to the ground with him, quickly grabbing hold of his legs and yanking the blade out of his grip.

Allen winced at the pain of having a knife buried to his shoulder blade, but it was either that, or having it stabbed deep into his heart. He may not have been too good in hand-to-hand combat, but if he could wrestle a wild dingo, he could wrestle a Spy. Of course, the Spy put up a much more painful fight than a dingo ever did. He bit, clawed and kicked the entire time, and though Allen was the bigger man, he still had trouble holding the Spy down. The bushman growled and managed to sit himself in the small of the Spy's back and had his upper half arched painfully back.

"Mon dieu, " Spy breathed, grinding his teeth. "Get off of me, ruffian!"

"Why don'tcha make me?" Allen hissed dangerously in the Spy's ear.

"Believe me, if it were any ozher situation, I would."

"I'd like to see you try, dingo bait."

The Spy writhed underneath him, but to no avail. Allen was heavier and in a far better position.

"How about I turn you over to Soldier, then? Or maybe Medic will have a better use for your corpse," he said, his voice low.

"Killing during ceasefire is forbidden!" the Spy spat.

"And that has stopped you…?"

"It is easy for a Spy to get away wizh zhese zhings. A dirty bushman, however, is easily traced."

"I don't think you quite know who you're talking to, mate," Allen growled. "I sift the heads of people like you for a livin'."

"Zhen zhey are not like me," Spy smirked. "Non."

Allen gave the Spy's neck a quick yank.

"You had enough yet?"

The Spy was about to retort, but when he heard the stamping of heavy boots above them, he grumbled and fell silent.

"You win zhis round. Let me up, sil vous plait…"

Allen sneered.

"You think I'm a bloody idiot?"

"I will leave, if you will let me go back to my base."

Allen frowned as he thought about it. As his grip loosened, the Spy flipped around, grabbing Allen's hair and slamming his head into the ground. He quickly rose to his feet, straightened his tie, and disappeared. Allen groaned and held his head. He felt another sharp pain run down his back as the blade was yanked from his flesh and slashed across his back.

"I will let you off easy, zhis time. Do not expect me to be so merciful next time around."

The Spy laughed and walked off down the hall, heading toward the exit. He would have to spend more time with his new plaything later.

Allen slammed his fist on the floor, his head spinning.

"Yyyyou…You get baaaAAAAaack here! I'm nnnot done with yhooou yet!"

He stood up and held his head, realizing that it was no use. Being this dizzy would not bode well for a real fight. Instead, he took what was left of his pride and headed back the way he came, hoping that Medic was in the medbay.

"Herr Sniper, vhot on earth happened?"

Allen walked into the ward with his face screwed up in pain, blood trickling from a bruised cut on his forehead, and the back of his shirt stained with his own blood.

"Believe it or not, some of this blood isn't mine," he sighed. "I had to wrangle a BLU Spy down by the intel."

"Zhe BLU Spy is in zhe base?"

"Nah, not anymore. At least, I hope not."

"Ja, let's hope not. Let me take a look at you…"

Medic sat Allen down on a chair and overlooked his wounds.

"Mmmm…minor head trauma, a few cuts und bruises, und a stab vound behind zhe shoulder…Not too bad. I can fix zhis."

Half expecting a needle and thread, instead Allen spotted the Medic carrying what looked like a small cannon hooked to the wall.

"Uh…doc?"

"Don't vorry, zhis vill only be a moment."

Medic lifted the gun and pulled the handle on top before holding down the trigger underneath. A red ray of glowing mist flowed out of the front of the gun, wrapping Allen in a cloak of warmth. He felt his skin melding together over the various cuts, the healing process of his body speeding up to fix the damage done. It left a few dark splotches where they were, but the healing was otherwise seamless.

"What exactly is that thing, Medic?" Allen asked.

"Zhis is zhe Medigun. It is a piece of machinery zhat allows me to heal my teammates. It is tied in vith zhe respawn system."

"I see. How uh…how exactly does this work, this…respawn?"

"Mmmm…"

Medic looked thoughtful as he put the Medigun away.

"I only have a general idea of vhat it does, exactly. You vould be better off asking Engineer. He actually helps to keep it running, und his grandfather helped to design zhe thing."

"You don't say?"

Medic nodded.

"Now get out of here, and watch your back."

Allen nodded.

"Th-Thanks doc."

Medic hummed as he started tinkering with something on the medigun. Allen turned away and headed out of the medbay, back toward his bunk. At least he was moderately safe there.

He shut the hatch and scooted his suitcase over in after making sure the thing was locked. He sighed and put on his uniform. It was still early in the day, and he was restless, but he didn't feel quite confident enough to go exploring the grounds again. It seemed that everyone stayed inside for a reason. He wasn't about to stick his neck out for the sake of curiosity. He did, however, want to find something to cover his damned windows.

He looked around, but the closet held nothing in the way of blinds or curtains. He resorted to taking one of his sheets off the bed and tearing it in half, hanging one half over one window and the other on the second window. He felt a little better, especially after the blue dot returned to trace over the makeshift curtains. He set up a chair in front of the window, holding his rifle in hand. He peered down the scope, looking across the distance that separated RED from BLU. He spotted a similar point not too far up the BLU building that looked remarkably similar to his bunk. He could see a man with sideburns trimmed to look like tribal patterns gazing down the barrel of his own rifle, right at him.

The other man know he was looking at him, the red dot of Allen's laser sight hovering over his head. He lifted his hat and nodded in what might have been a sort of greeting. Allen did the same before moving on. The BLU Sniper seemed to do the same, sweeping over the battlefield. That subtle greeting between the Snipers would probably be the nicest thing they ever did to each other, and Allen was glad to be granted that small kindness.

He stayed in his bunk until well after the sun went down. His stomach had begun to grumble angrily at his lack of keeping himself fed. Allen decided it was best to go on down and have a bite to eat before Monday came. For all he knew, it could be his first and last day on the job, now that the BLU Spy would more or less have it out for him. He wandered down to the kitchen, which was empty. He was thankful for the silence.

"You're almost as much of a loner as Spy," came a southern voice. Allen jumped and turned around, nearly knocking over the pan he was heating on the stove.

"Whoa, there, Stretch! Didn't mean to startle ya!"

Allen rubbed the back of his neck and nodded to the Engineer.

"Ah…g'day," he said nervously. Ever since his run-in with the BLU Spy, he'd felt so much jumpier.

"You look like you'd seen a ghost. You alright?"

Engie sat down at the table and kicked his feet up on the chair opposite him.

"I'm fine, thanks for askin'…"

Allen threw on a couple of a slices of bread with cheese on them, intending just to make himself a sandwich and take it back to his bunk. He remembered about what he had asked Medic earlier, and decided that now was as good a time as any to ask the Engineer about the respawn system.

"Say Engie…What exactly does Respawn do?"

Engie chuckled.

"Nervous?"

Allen looked at him for a moment, his world tinted yellow behind his glasses. He nodded slightly.

"It's okay t'be nervous the first few times around, Stretch. Y'get used to it, though."

Engie sat up and put his chin in his hand.

"Respawn is sort of like a time-space manipulator. If you're exploded, stabbed, burned, maimed or killed in any way, it sort of 'resets' you, bringing you back to the place you started - the respawn room. It's where we start when battle begins."

"So wait…how does it do this, exactly?"

"I still have yet t'figure that one out. Mah grandad is the one who helped design it, but his blueprints were lost a long time ago. I think respawn is maybe a spinoff of a machine he was trying to build that would keep old Mann alive forever, but somehow got turned into this crazy contraption."

"So…it's basically the creation of a mad scientist?"

"Mah grandad wasn't mad! He was a genius!"

Engie actually looked offended, and Allen held his hands up.

"E-Easy, mate, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to insult you."

Engie calmed down and rubbed his head.

"Ah shouldn't have snapped. I apologize, myself."

Allen was left in an awkward silence after that. He finished making his sandwich, wrapping it up in a paper towel and putting the pan in the sink that was half-full of dishes. As he went to leave, Engie spoke out to him.

"Hey, Stretch?"

Allen glanced over his shoulder.

"…Yeah?"

"Welcome t'the team."

Allen nodded.

"Thanks, Engie."

He retreated to his bunk to eat his sandwich in peace. He was slightly disappointed not to have gotten to speak more with the Spy, but he figured that the man had better things to do than hang around with a "dirty bushman".


	3. Chapter 3 - First Day on the Job

**They Called Him Sniper**

_Chapter 3_

Allen was up at the crack of dawn. Faded sirens were blaring eerily outside. He jumped out of bed, seeing that it was 5:30 in the morning. The fighting started as soon as the sun rose above the horizon, which would be in about an hour. He put on his uniform, strapping his kukri to his side, putting the SMG in its holster, and slinging the sniper rifle over his shoulder. He would try to find an ideal spot for sniping without giving away his position. He knew that sniping where he slept would just be a dead giveaway, so he had to look around for a better spot. He took a quick scan of the battlefield. The enemy Sniper wasn't in his bunk. Or, at least, he wasn't looking out his window. This made Allen a little uneasy, but he knew that today was his chance to show his team just what he could do. No bushman was as quick a shot as he was, even if his aim was lacking. He knew he'd have plenty of time to polish that skill, however.

A muffled _tap tap tap_ met his ears. He looked to the trap door, pushing his suitcase off of it and unlocking it. He took a step back, just in case it was Soldier again.

"Monsieur?"

Allen smiled. It was Spy, and despite his first impression, he had come to respect the guy, and enjoyed having his company this morning.

"Good mornin'. What brings you up here?"

"I was sent to check on you. Soldier wanted to make sure zhat you were awake."

"Oh, heh, yeah. I am."

Spy must have sensed his unease toward the start of the new day. He started to climb into the bunk.

"May I?"

"Go ahead."

Allen wasn't quite ready to admit to himself that he wanted the company, but in the back of his mind, he knew he needed it. Spy shut the hatch and stood up. Allen finally realized just how tall the man was, and though Allen was still taller, it was only by an inch or so. Spy seemed a little taller than most of the team, which made Allen question just how he could fit into small places or sneak around as efficiently as the BLU Spy, who was much shorter than him.

"Are you okay, monsieur Sniper?"

Allen snapped back to reality.

"Uh…yeah, yeah, I'm okay."

He sighed and looked out the window.

"I've never been so jumpy before a job…must be because I'm not used to being in such a place as this," he said. "Working alone and working with a team are two different things. I was never much of a team player…a'course, I was never at risk of being stabbed in the back while working."

The Spy nodded, cigarette in hand.

"Mmm, I was zhe same way. You eventually come to rely on your teammates to make zhings easier for you later on down zhe road, much zhe same way zhey rely on us to watch zheir backs. Zhey don't like to admit zhat zhey need us, but zhey know it."

Allen nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It would seem that way, eh? I've noticed how you don't stick around them for long before disappearing."

"Many of zhem don't like me. I 'freak zhem out', as zhey say. Demoman and Medic seem to be zhe only ones who tolerate me."

"I tolerate ya."

Spy chuckled.

"Zhat is good to know."

Allen smiled, glad to have made at least one friend.

"Hey uh, you think you could…do that cloakin' thing again?"

Spy smirked.

"You want to get an edge on zhe competition, hmm?"

Allen shrugged.

"The more ya' know, right?"

Spy gave him a knowing smile before disappearing. Allen swept his hand over the Spy's shoulder, watching how a matrix of red appeared when he brushed against it. He grabbed hold of the man's shoulder and listened as the cloak hissed when powering down.

"Blimey…"

"Is intriguing, no?" Spy said. "Stealth technology at its finest."

"Yeah…"

Allen let go of the Spy, giving him a nod of thanks.

"I think I know what to listen for, now."

"Just remember, mon ami, zhat a Spy never decloaks until 'e is about to strike. Zhe watch prevents us from having a full range of movement while cloaked, allowing only for zhe smallest of movements before draining zhe charge."

"I'll…keep that in mind," Allen said, nervously clenching his fists.

"You would do well to do just zhat," Spy said, taking a drag off his cigarette. "Now, I 'ave to get back down to zhe ozhers. I suggest you get somezhing to eat. We do not 'ave lunch breaks."

Allen nodded as Spy descended the ladder. He followed close behind him, breaking away with a nod as Spy went one way, and he another. He hurried to the kitchen to find Engineer at the range, with the rest of the team enjoying their breakfasts.

"Mornin' Stretch," Engie said, taking note of who had walked in. "You're up late."

"I…uh…"

Allen rummaged around in his breast pocket for his aviators, sliding them on with one quick movement.

"I was just talkin' to Spy. Asked him to let me get familiar with that crazy cloaking contraption of his."

"Ah, yeah," Engie said. "Pop a squat, I'll get you some eggs and bacon. You want coffee?"

"I'll get it," Allen said, already having made his way to the cupboard. He took another bland mug down from the shelf, this one less greasy than the first one he had pulled out. He filled it with coffee, which was actually hot this morning, and sat down with it. Engie brought him his breakfast, setting the plate down in front of him. He sat down across from him with his own plate in tow.

"You ready for today?"

Allen looked up at Engie and nodded.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's hope so. Wouldn't want anything' bad happenin' to you."

Allen nodded again. He picked at his breakfast, eventually finishing it.

"Thanks Engie."

The Engineer smiled and picked up his plate. Allen took his own to the sink. He gave it a rinse, sliding it in with the rest. He out of the kitchen alone, but a few of his fellow teammates were heading down one of the hallways that had ended in a dead end for him. He wondered why they were going there, and decided to follow. He discovered that the end of the hallway was no longer a dead end, and instead was opened up to a large room with a medical cabinet and what looked like a garage door.

"What is this place?" Allen asked. The Demoman turned and looked at him, his flak jacket laden with grenades.

"This be the respawn, boyo."

Allen looked around.

"So we just…come here when we die?"

"Aye, but th'less ye' come here, the better. Believe me, it ain't worth the dizziness after wakin' up on yer feet."

Allen gulped. He sat down on one of the benches by the walls. The Heavy, the Demoman and the Soldier were all in the same room, Soldier looking ready for battle as usual. Scout, Engie and Medic came in together. Pyro came running in with a massive flamethrower in hand, the end tipped with a painted dragon's head. A blue flame was flickering in its mouth, no doubt just a small candle flame compared to the torrent of hellfire that usually spewed from the dragon's mouth. Demoman lifted his hand and smiled. Pyro jumped up and smacked his hand, making what could only be described as an amused sound as it clapped its gloved hands.

"You ready t'get that spy?" Demoman asked.

"Huddah! Huh huddah hur!"

"I bet ye' will, lad! Damned Spook can't hide from ye' forever."

"Hurr!"

Allen looked back and forth between the Demoman and the Pyro. How in blazes the black, Scottish drunkard could understand the masked creature, he hadn't the slightest clue. Regardless, he felt the ghost of a hand on his shoulder and looked up, seeing nothing. He turned his attention away, not wanting to give away the fact that Spy was there.

"Be careful, mon ami," Spy whispered. "Zhe BLU Spy is none too happy with your encounter yesterday."

Allen nodded and looked down at the floor between his feet. The hand disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Allen feeling alone in the room full of mercenaries. Scout held his bat at the ready, cleats tapping eagerly on the tiled floor. The room was full of small sounds, ranging from the tapping and shuffling of feet, to the clinking of equipment. He stood up upon hearing a voice outside, echoing across the field.

"Mission begins in ten seconds."

Allen pulled his kukri from his belt and prepared himself the best he could. When the door opened, Soldier, Demoman, Heavy and Scout all charged forward, shouting threats at the enemy forces. Medic followed close behind Heavy as his chain gun whirred to life. Blasts echoed all around as Allen stepped out of the room, watching the chaos unfold. He ducked as a rocket came his way, but just before it hit him, it was repelled by a strong blast of air. The Pyro gave him a thumbs up before running off with the rest of the team. Allen hurried off, tipping his hat thankfully to the firebug before slinking into the shadows. He climbed up a flight of stairs heading up to the battlements, sweeping around the corners and keeping an eye for the blue uniforms of the enemy team. He spotted none on his way up, and decided to set up just in front of one of the many wide windows that looked down over the field. A wide expanse of dirt was separated by a pool of water, over which was a covered bridge. He peered down, looking over the train tracks that had brought him to this place, leading beyond gates that were shut tight.

Allen peered out over the battlefield, watching in wonder as the Soldiers haphazardly blasted at each other with rockets, as if death wasn't even a concept that crossed their muddled minds. Allen would probably never understand them, nor the Demomen setting up spiky bombs that stuck to the walls of the building, exploding when an enemy came too near. He winced as the RED Scout blew apart into tiny, bloody bits, only to see him run right out of the respawn room shouting about how it was just good timing. Allen rubbed his throat, feeling sick. He was not willing to go through death to begin with, and he would rather not experience it on more than one occasion.

He heard a hiss behind him, and spun around with his gun, smacking into the BLU Spy. The Frenchman sneered after having been thwacked in the face by a metal gun barrel. Allen stood up and kicked at the man with his long legs. The Spy stepped aside, swiping at Allen with his knife. Allen dropped his rifle and pulled out his SMG, which the Spy frowned at.

"Oh, now zhat is just unfair…"

Allen smirked and fired away, filling the man with lead. The Spy fell over, dead, before his body disappeared and went through respawn. He saw the Spy coming out, looking a little disoriented. He took off his hat and waved at him from his perch, the Spy frowning and disappearing. Allen chuckled before noticing a blue dot quickly coming to rest between his eyes. He ducked just as the shot of a sniper rifle could be heard echoing across the battlefield. Allen saw a puff of dust where the bullet landed in the wood wall behind him. He fanned himself with his hat and breathed a heavy sigh before adjusting his glasses and peering out over the edge of the open-air window. He could see the enemy Sniper looking for him, and decided it was best that he move elsewhere.

He managed to find a small, secluded spot higher up, ducking behind another open window and looking out over the field. Everyone was still going at it, the Scouts locked in a one-on-one battle of the bats. He looked for the enemy Sniper, who was in turn, looking for him. He steadied his aim, took a breath and pulled the trigger.

Everything above the BLU's shoulders became a fine red mist. Allen let out his held breath and ducked back behind the cover of the wall. He peered out after a brief moment and watched as a Heavy came out of respawn, guns blazing. He popped a shot at him, but hit him in the shoulder, which didn't seem to phase him much. Before he could go for a headshot, he hear the whistle of a bullet as it grazed his cheek. He ducked down, hissing as the left side of his face burned where the bullet had sliced across his cheek bone and the top of his left ear. He grumbled and looked down a smug-looking BLU Spy before he disappeared again.

_Oh for the love of…_

Allen leaped up and started moving. He knew that staying in one place would not be good for his health, especially with that Spy hanging about. He ran down the hallway, ducking around corners whenever he heard footsteps. He ran down to the intel room, finding that Engineer was stationed there with a huge sentry gun and a strange box-shaped contraption.

"Stretch?"

Allen panted and sat down for a moment.

"Jus' give me…a sec…Engie."

"You come on over here," Engie said, patting the machine that seemed full to the brim with bullets. "Let mah dispenser take care of that bullet wound."

Allen walked over and sat next to the dispenser, a small healing ray ghosting off of it, similar to Medic's medigun. He started to breathe a little easier, his weariness fading away and his skin healing what was damaged.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now get out of here, before that Spy tries comin' 'round here again."

Allen nodded and made his way back out to the battlements. He nearly lost his head as soon as he emerged, the BLU Sniper taking a shot at him. Out of reflex, he lifted his rifle and stepped to the side just as the bloke took another shot. He planted another bullet between the enemy's eyes, but found himself with a knife in the back just as quickly as he had taken the shot. His vision faded as he fell over onto the ground.

"You got blood on my suit," came a dissatisfied voice behind him. It was the last thing he heard before everything faded to black.

His mind was suddenly awash with sensation, and he gasped as he realized he was standing in the respawn room. It felt like he had awakened from a bad dream, his head spinning and his stomach churning. He sat down for a brief moment to let his stomach settle before getting up and running back out again. Despite his legs being a little wobbly, he felt that he'd be fine. He just needed to avoid doing that again at all costs.

The day wore on. Allen managed to stay out of trouble for the most part. However, as the day came to a close, the enemy Pyro suddenly had a newfound interest in him, and was chasing him around the base.

"Will you leave me alone?!" Allen shouted. All he received in response was a hellish giggle and a burst of flame toward his backside. He ran faster and let the Pyro chase him down into the intel room, where it was immediately blown apart by the rocket launcher on the sentry gun.

"Whoa!"

Engie held his hardhat on as the blast was reflected in his welding goggles.

Allen laid on his back on the floor, panting.

"Again, thanks for the help Engie."

Engineer laughed and slapped his knee.

"Boy, for a moment there, I thought you may have been the BLU Spy, but when that Pyro ran in after ya', it caught me by surprise!"

Allen laughed and rolled over, pushing himself up onto his feet.

"You'd best be getting' along while we still have time."

Allen nodded and hurried along his way, only to come face to face with the enemy Pyro again.

"…Fuck."

He fled, his clothes ablaze. He ran for a while before finally dropping to the ground and rolling out the fire. He panted, his skin burning where the uniform had caught fire. He stood up and looked around, spotting Medic coming out of respawn.

"Medic! Hey!"

He waved his hat at the man, who turned and looked at him. He quickly ran over, not even needing Allen to explain before turning the healing ray of the medigun on him. Allen sighed as his body patched itself up.

"Thanks doc."

Medic nodded and hurried off to stand behind the Pyro, who was having trouble taking down an enemy sentry. Allen, on the other hand, ran into the shadows, hoping to get a few kills before the day ended.

He managed to take down that heavy and his Medic in one shot, the bullet passing through both of their heads. The sirens started going off on the RED side almost immediately afterward.

"The enemy has taken the intelligence!"

Allen spotted the BLU Scout making a mad dash for the opposite side of the field. He raised his rifle and took the shot. He missed, however, and the Scout disappeared into his base. Not long after, the sirens went off again.

"The enemy has captured the intelligence."

Allen cursed, then heard a hiss behind him. He didn't even hesitate to grab his kukri and jab it backwards, landing in the gut of the BLU Spy. He heard the man gargle before falling over, dead. Allen pulled his knife from the man's corpse and gave the weapon a quick flick of his wrist, blood spattering across the ground. He scowled across the field before slipping back into the shadows. He made his way back up to his previous point, taking aim at the Scout that had captured their intel. He took the shot, and managed to hit him this time.

The day ended with RED losing the battle. The enemy had captured the intel, and their team had been unable to recapture it or bring the BLU intel back to the base.

Allen got a sour taste in his mouth, and he spat on the ground at his feet. He walked back inside, his team mates around him. They all felt a bit dejected, but they knew that tomorrow would bring a new day, and another chance to win the next battle.

Allen felt his stomach grumble painfully, and remembered that they didn't have lunch breaks, so he had gone since breakfast without any sort of nourishment. He'd have to remember to grab a few granola bars or something for tomorrow.

He walked into the showers, bringing a fresh uniform with him. He washed away the dirt and grime of the day, sighing as he let the water run over his tired muscles. He finally managed to relax when a sudden pang between his shoulder blades made him wince. He reached around, but felt nothing. It was just the phantom feeling of the BLU Spy's dagger from earlier that day. He rested his head against the tiled wall and grumbled to himself. He let the pang ebb away, the warm water smoothing away the tension of his muscles once again. When he finally got out of the shower, he put on his uniform, clasped his belt, and slid his kukri into its sheath. He wanted nothing more than to eat and go to bed. For him, it felt like this entire day had gone on far too long.

He walked into the kitchen, made himself a sandwich and a cup of coffee, and disappeared to his bunk. He didn't bother with shoving his suitcase over the hatch after locking it. He ate his sandwich alone, in the darkness that came after sunset. He looked out over the field, dust and dirt clouds still drifting lazily in the air. Allen looked at the lonely clock on his wall, ticking away every passing second. It sounded so loud against the silence pressing against his ears. He ran his hand through his hair and took off his sunglasses, setting them on the floor beside his bed. He set his hat over them, frowning at the silence. He thought that this peacefulness would be a welcome change to the ruckus that had passed, but in a way, it felt more like torture. He knew that out there, somewhere, was a BLU Spy, slinking around and waiting in the silence, a predator in the night. Allen shuddered and held his head in his hands, closing his eyes and trying the quiet his thoughts. He looked out his window, pulling back the makeshift curtains to look out at the starry night.

It was odd. It was the same sky as he'd always seen. Every night, over the vast expanse that surrounded his home, he would lay out and look at the stars. He couldn't do that here, and though it was only his third night away from home, he was feeling homesick. He felt so silly for being homesick, but his home was the only place he had to call his own. Now he shares a building with eight other mercenaries from all over the world.

He laid down in his bed, thinking to himself. He'd really like to sit outside, but knowing his luck, he'd find a knife in his back when he turned around, and he wouldn't respawn. But, for once, he really felt the risk would be worth it. Regardless, he stayed in bed, staring up at his ceiling. He laid there for who knew how long. He felt tired, but uneasy. He finally decided to go out into the open air.

He checked his window before opening it and stepping out onto the tip rooftop, climbing up to a high vantage point. He disappeared over the top and onto the flat backside over the main portion of the building. He found a solid spot to lay down and looked up at the dark sky, breathing a heavy sigh. This still wasn't home, but it was as close as he would get for now.

The stars twinkled above him, and he put his hands behind his head to cushion it against the hard metal beneath him. Everything just seemed better, with the open sky and the sound of laughter coming from somewhere in the base, echoing through the ventilation that came up to the rooftop. Just that little bit of noise breaking the silence made him smile. He was used to the sound of dingoes barking or bugs chattering at night, but here, there was none of that. Just the sound of the men in the base, goofing off or being otherwise in good spirits, despite having lost the battle that day. Allen knew he'd get used to it eventually, and if he had to lay out on the roof from now on, well, it would be better than laying awake for hours in his quiet bunk. Maybe when the weekend came, he would join the fellas for drinks. For now, though, he was just glad to have the freedom to lay out where no body could bother him. That is, unless they discovered his window open and climbed up to the roof to investigate. Such as the RED Spy.

"I can hear you, you know," Allen said, having heard the tapping of shoes on the roof behind him. He heard no cloak, however, and looked back to see the Spy looking down at him with a smile.

"I know. I was not trying to be sneaky."

"That's a surprise."

Allen chuckled along with Spy, who sat down next to him. He was, for once, not smoking his cigarettes. Instead, he just looked up at the sky with him, providing the company that Allen had been longing for. As much as he didn't like to admit it, it actually enjoyed the Spy's company, seeming as he was the first guy to actually sit and have a conversation with him. It was a nice change.

"You miss it, do you not?"

Allen nodded.

"Yeah. I'm not used to such…quiet. That lady, Miss Pauling, said I would get used to it. I don't think I ever could. It just makes me feel so uneasy."

Spy smirked.

"You seem to be quite jumpy."

Allen laughed.

"Jumpy? Nah, just untrusting, I suppose. I don't trust the silence. It just makes it feel like something is wrong."

"Mmm…"

Allen sat up, trying to think of what to say. He didn't want to go back inside, quite yet, but he didn't know how to really start a conversation. After all, when you live by yourself with only the wilderness to keep you company, you don't really get many chances to talk with anyone. Spy, however, seemed fine with being quiet. Allen found some solace in this, and came to the conclusion that you didn't have to talk to someone to enjoy their company.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Desert Rose

**They Called Him Sniper**

_Chapter 4_

The next day's fighting had gone on much the same as the day before. The only difference was the absence of the BLU Spy throughout the battle. This made Allen very wary, and as a result, he managed to go the day without being killed. He hunkered down in a corner of the battlements just beyond view of the battlefield. Every now and then, he would pop his head up and take down the enemy Heavy or Engineer, helping his team to advance. When they began filing inside, however, the battlefield was left more or less empty, save for when someone came out of respawn and ran back across the bridge. Allen kept an eye on his adversary's position, the BLU Sniper seeming to be unable to find a good spot to sit without Allen taking shots at him. He found some sort of satisfaction in the fact that, this time, he was keeping the BLU Sniper on his toes, rather than the other way around. The guy never seemed to figure out just where he was hiding, which was well and good for Allen.

He heard the sirens going off in the opposite building.

"The enemy has taken the briefcase!"

Allen let out a soft chuckle as he watched and waited. Scout came charging out of the enemy base with the BLU Scout following close behind. Allen waited for the right moment to shoot, timing his reaction with the BLU Scout's when he realized that his red laser sight was trained on him. He fired the shot before quickly ducking around the corner. He looked up as the blue dot from his enemy's laser sight hovered along the wall.

"I think he saw me…"

Allen crawled low along the ground, hoping to shimmy his way to a different part of the battlements and catch the BLU by surprise.

"We have captured the briefcase!"

Allen grinned. Maybe today would be a good day after all.

"Everyone back to the base, pardner!"

Allen looked up to see Engie running along the battlements, heading inside. He waved to him, and Engie paused for a moment, walking toward him.

"Wait Engie!"

Engineer paused. Allen reached over and grabbed the Texan's leg, pulling it out from under him. The BLU Sniper's laser sight drifted over, but disappeared soon after. Allen sighed before realizing he was grabbing hold of a blue pantleg. He looked up in shock at the Spy, who sneered at him with a pistol pointed to his head.

"You are wrinkling my suit."

Allen leg go and ducked his head as the shot was fired, making his ears ring. He grabbed the Spy's gloved hands and wrestled him to the ground. He head-butted the Spy, whose eyes defocused for a brief moment. Allen took this opportunity to grab him by the throat and start slamming his head against the ground.

"Bloody Spook!"

He slammed the man's head hard against the floor. The Spy spat in his face before managing to wedge his knee between Allen's legs, knocking the wind out of him. Spy pushed him over, rolling over on top of him and drawing his knife. He stabbed at Allen's chest, but thanks to his vest and constant moving, he missed a killing blow. The shock of pain brought Allen back to his senses. He let out a defiant yell and flipped himself back over the Spy, punching him in the face as he tried to hold the slippery snake down. The Spy would eventually lose consciousness and Allen threw him out the window, watching as the man fell to the ground. He hit the earth with a sickening _thunk_, but much to Allen's dismay, the Spy started to move. He started crawling along the ground toward his base, crying out for his Medic. Allen aimed his rifle at the man's head, firing when the Spy turned at looked at him, making a face of utter disgust. That face turned into red gore splattered across the hard ground. Allen ducked away clutching at his stab wound as he made his way down toward the main building.

He turned the corner leading to the back area, where the entrance to the intel room sat guarded by another huge sentry. Engie aimed his shotgun at Allen as he rounded the corner.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Don't shoot!" Allen said throwing his hands up.

"Git over here," Engie growled, his face set in an angry scowl. Allen walked over, and flinched when Engie firmly grabbed his shoulder. When his hand didn't expose any cloaking devices, Engie sighed and straightened his cockeyed hardhat.

"Sorry to startle ya' like that, Stretch. A Spy ran through here disguised as Scout none too long ago."

"Yeah, he was disguised as you when I tussled with 'im," Allen said, leaning against the dispenser. He breathed a sigh or relief as his stab wound closed up neatly.

"You rough him up?" Engie asked. "'Cause it looks like he nearly did you in."

"I threw the wanker out the window," Allen said.

Engie was quiet for a second before breaking into laughter.

"Whooee! I'm glad that bastard got what was comin' to him! Heh, he's been goin' around, thinkin' he's the top dog 'round here!"

Allen chuckled.

"Well, I'd better get back to makin' sure he doesn't forget 'is place."

Engie waved to him as he headed back up toward his room. He was hoping to get up onto the roof and take shots from high above the battlefield. The way that the roof was sloped in front and level in back would make for great cover, even if the enemy Sniper found out where he was hiding.

He peered out through his window, looking around before quickly climbing up to the top of the roof. As he scrambled up the slope of the roof facing the battlefield, he heard a shot ring out from the other side. Surprisingly, though, it wasn't aimed at him. He continued to climb up the hot tin roofing and slung himself up and over the top. He then looked down over the field. It was a grand place to sit, but in this heat, he could see that it was actually a very poor position. This spot would be better off for later in the day, and instead, he decided to go across the way, sitting up on the roof that looked down over the open portion of the base that lead to the intel room via a stairwell. He laid out on the roof, his hat protecting his head and the back of his neck from the rays of the harsh sun. He peered down at the Heavy, Pyro and Medic, who were all standing back-to-back. Medic had his bonesaw out and ready. The look on his face was that of a polished veteran waiting for his chance to strike. Allen watched as the Pyro let off a spurt of flame, possibly checking for an invisible adversary. Perhaps that was who they were looking out for, and by the tense stillness in the air, they had already come across him.

Allen held his breath as he watched with them, waiting. He thought he spotted the shimmer of a BLU cloaking device and took aim, watching for the tiniest detail to be put out of place. When he saw some of the hay - which was strewn about _everywhere_ - become crushed by an invisible force, he kept an eye on that spot until it settled back to the way it was. He wondered if it had been a trick of the light, or if the Spy was really around, possibly waiting for his moment to strike.

Suddenly, the unexpected happened. Medic snapped around and drew his saw blade across the Heavy's throat, the Spy's disguise falling around him. Pyro turned on a dime, surprisingly fast for someone carrying such a heavy-looking flamethrower. He opened fire, but missed the Spy before he disappeared again. Allen traced the Spy's movements up to the point where he decloaked to stab the Pyro in the back. Allen unloaded the rifle's chamber right between the Spy's eyes. Pyro looked around briefly before finally catching sight of Allen. Pyro gave him a thumbs-up and ran off toward the intelligence.

Allen moved to a different part of the roof, hoping to get a few more kills before the day ended, but he didn't want to come within sight of the BLU Spy or their Sniper. He kept an eye on the battlefield, tallying the shots he made on the enemy Demoman when he would start causing trouble for their defenses. He was there for support, after all. He had to keep an eye on his teammates and keep them from getting blown up.

The sun finally set and ceasefire was called over the loudspeakers. He fanned himself with his hat, looking out over the yellow-tinted field. He climbed down from his perch and swung himself into his bunk, feeling triumphant. He tossed his hat onto his bed and stretched his arms above his head, grabbing a fresh uniform before heading down to the showers.

He took his time in the showers, letting the hot water ease his aches and pains. He could hear Demoman and Heavy laughing boisterously a few stalls over. The sound of the water hissing from the showerhead almost drowned them out. He watched the water drip from his hair and down his nose. He leaned his head back and scrubbed over his face, feeling more worn out than he should have.

After leaving the shower, he went to find something to eat. As he approached the kitchens, however, he could smell something that could actually be described as delicious. He walked in to find Engineer at the range with a wooden spoon and a big pot on the stove. The rest of the team, save for Spy, were filling the air with lively chatter. Allen sat himself down next to the Pyro, who almost immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a friendly pat on the arm.

"Hur huddah huh hur!"

Allen raised a questioning eyebrow.

"…What?"

Pyro lifted its mask over its mouth, revealing bright red stubble and a broad chin.

"You saved my ass back there," he said, his voice sounding remarkably young, almost fitting to Scout's age. "Thanks."

"No problem, mate," Allen said with a smile. Pyro gave him a smile and pulled his mask back down. Allen was glad to finally put a voice to the guy. It worried him a little not knowing the dangerous firebug's identity, but not so much that he feared him. At least, not anymore. He seemed nice enough, anyhow.

The table shuddered as the Heavy moved over to Sniper's end.

"Leetle Sniper is credit to team!"

He gave Allen a playful punch in the arm, knocking his glasses askew. Allen chuckled.

"Nah," he said. "I just hide out on the roof and kill people from afar."

"Dude!"

Scout came over and sat next to Heavy, leaning over the table.

"I didn't think anyone but our old Sniper was good enough to hit the BLU Scout when he was chasin' me! You're the reason I got into the base with the intel, else that shithead would'a filled me full'a lead! Well, you helped, anyway. I got in because I'm fuckin' unstoppable."

Allen laughed.

"Typical kid."

Scout made a face that looked halfway between laughing and pouting, which made the Heavy and Pyro laugh. Allen smirked, but his attention was brought away from their silliness when Engie rang a triangle.

"Sooooey!"

There was a flurry of movement as everyone rushed to get their bowls and line up by the pot. To be honest, this was the first time Allen had seen the team get so orderly. Even Scout didn't step out of line. Allen brought up the rear, or so he thought, until the Spy walked in, putting out his cigarette and tossing it in the trash can. He came up behind Allen, grabbing a bowl.

"You 'ave made quite a name for yourself," Spy said softly. "Zhe BLUs are all abuzz about your triumphs on zhe battlefield, today."

Allen smiled.

"I take it you've been over there, mate?"

"Mhmm…"

Spy was silent for a moment.

"Zheir Spy is adamant about getting to you, one way or zhe ozher. 'E claims to 'ave never met a Sniper who 'as adapted to 'im so quickly."

"That's all fine an' good mate, but you know, I don't really care much for what tha' bloke thinks, so long as he stays clear outta my way."

Allen heard a snort behind him, followed by a soft chuckle.

"You underestimate 'im, monsieur…'E is capable of much more zhan 'e lets on."

"Then he better bring what he has to the table. I wasn't expectin' anyone to go easy on me."

There was another brief silence from behind before Spy chuckled again.

"I believe it is in 'is nature to do so."

Allen smirked.

"I hope so. I wanna break him at every turn."

"You are fitting quite nicely into zhis line of work," Spy said, the smile on his face almost audible in his tone.

Allen stepped forward to get his bowl filled with Engie's chili. It smelled delicious, but not as delicious as the sense of victory he had at finally getting under. the BLU Spy's skin. He was looking forward to meeting the spook in battle the next day, only to end him over and over.

He sat down with his bowl and a spoon in hand, the Spy sitting across from where Heavy had sat before. Heavy, however, decided to sit beside Medic and Soldier. Demoman and Pyro were sitting beside each other, Demo sharing his scrumpy with the masked man. It seemed like most of the team had decided to sit around Engie at one table, leaving Allen and the Spy alone.

"I don't usually enjoy American food," Spy said, spooning up some of the chili. "But zhe Engineer is very good at persuasion."

He chuckled and took a bite. Allen smirked and took a bite of his own. It had just the right balance of spicy and savory flavor, with a lot of meat and red beans in every bite. Allen felt genuinely full after his first bowl, unlike the others. Well, except Spy, who seemed to eat like a bird anyway. Allen rarely got to see the man eat, much like himself. They were two guys of similar taste in social life. They liked to keep to themselves, and they both enjoyed each other's company. Allen was glad to have someone else like him on the team.

It wasn't long before Allen couldn't stand being in the kitchen anymore.

"Will you be on zhe roof again, zhis evening?" Spy asked casually, getting up with Allen and walking with him to put his dishes in the sink.

"Maybe," Allen asked. "Might do me some good."

"Would you mind some company, zhen?"

Allen chuckled as he walked with the Spy.

"You oughtta' know the answer to that by now."

Spy grinned.

"I will meet you later, zhen."

Allen waved him off as he took off toward his bunk. He shucked off his boots and leaned against the wall, his head bumping it with a light _thump_. He took off his sunglasses and tossed them on the bed. He gave his eyes a rub and slid down the wall, not really realizing that he was sitting under the stained portion of the wall, where the blood had not washed out of the wood. Unlike most of the base, this little hidey-hole was completely wooden, more or less like a treehouse. Allen didn't mind it, though. He was just weary, and had a full belly. Once again, he was surrounded by the suffocating silence, and it drove him out to the roof again.

He climbed up to the top, laying back on the metal, which had been chilled by the cool night air. The stars were bright and clear in the sky, twinkling like glittering sentinels. He didn't know how long Spy would be, or if he would even show. After all, he was a Spy. He probably had better things to attend to. Though, he did ask.

Allen wondered to himself if he could really trust the man. He had only just met the guy, but they seemed to click on several levels. He wasn't even really sure why he was so worried about it. He was on his team, right? Teammates don't kill each other, or stab each other in the back. He liked the Spy, and Spy seemed to at least hold an interest in him. If he couldn't call that a sort of friendship, then what was it?

Or was he really so desperate to be accepted into the team that he took the kindness of anyone who showed it to him?

Allen shook his head and sat up, rubbing his face with his hand. He wasn't desperate. He just wanted to make a good impression on the people he would be living with for who knows how long. He would have to be in their company for a long time. He didn't want to make enemies on his own team. He would have to see them every day, cooperate with them, fight with them, protect them…

He heard someone approaching, and out of instinct, turned to make sure it wasn't an enemy. He wasn't sure who else he expected to come up here in the middle of the night, other than their own Spy. Allen couldn't even bring himself to force a smile as he turned back around, facing the distance. He could vaguely see clouds in the distance. It had been a while since he had seen rain. It would be nice to get some.

"You are worried about somezhing?" Spy asked as he sat down.

"Nah, nothin' important."

"If it worries you, zhen it must 'old some sort of importance."

Allen waved it off, leaning back on his hands.

"Nah."

Spy chuckled and stood next to him, blowing smoke rings above his head. He finished his cigarette before sitting down next to him, loosening his tie so that it hung loosely around his neck.

"Zhis is nice," he said after a few moments of silence.

"Hey?"

"I said, 'zhis is nice.'"

"Oh, y-yeah."

Allen wasn't sure what to say. Yeah, it was nice, having a companion in the darkness that didn't want to kill him. A brief flash of the day's battle went through his mind, and he looked over at Spy for a moment before waving his hand over his arm. With no cloak shimmer, he was satisfied that it was _his_ Spy, and not the other.

"Edgy, hmm?"

"Well, I didn't know that you guys could disguise yourselves as other people," Allen admitted. "It caught me off-guard today and nearly cost me."

"Ah, oui. I forgot to mention zhat…My apologies."

"Well, I know now, so it doesn't really matter. I would have found out, either way, mate."

Spy chortled.

"I suppose you would."

Allen tilted his head back and looked up at the stars. Spy seemed more relaxed than usual, a sight that was both unnerving and welcome at the same time. Spy was always so uptight and quiet around the others. Maybe Allen really was just over thinking and the man really did take pleasure in being his friend.

"Hey, Spy?"

"Hmm?"

"Well uh…I guess I just wanted to thank you. Yeah. Thanks, for being, 'mon ami', even if our first impressions weren't that great," Allen chuckled.

Spy, despite most of his facial features being hidden behind a mask, looked touched. His eyes showed it the most, something soft and intelligent shining within them. He looked back up at the sky.

"Vous êtes les bienvenus," he said. "You are welcome."

Allen smiled and rested an arm on the Spy's shoulder. Despite both he and the BLU's love for their suits, he let Allen rest his arm on him, a sure sign that he was comfortable with the contact. Allen smiled, glad for the companionship he had forged. He only hoped that it wouldn't be short-lived.


	5. Chapter 5 - Just Business

**They Called Him Sniper**

_Chapter 5_

Allen tumbled off the roof amidst a rain of bullets. He managed to catch himself on a window ledge and pull himself inside. The BLU Heavy had spotted him from below as he was climbing to his post, and decided it would be funny to target the Sniper. Allen had been hit a couple of times, but it was nothing the Medic couldn't fix. The German was running around, following Pyro and Heavy, giving them backup when they needed it. Allen had a sort of admiration for the man. He had so much stamina, being able to follow his teammates all around the area - which he had come to learn was called 2Fort - and keep them healthy. He managed to drop down, almost on top of him, as he was passing through the lower level.

"Doc! A little help, please?"

Medic turned briefly, watching his comrades go out into the sunlight before quickly coming to heal Sniper.

"Ah, thanks," Allen said, giving the Medic a pat on the shoulder.

"Jawol."

Medic quickly ran off to catch up with the others. They had already made it past the choke point of the opposite base, but they still had yet to capture the intel, and it was getting late. It was looking like the battle would end in a stalemate for them.

Allen clambered back up to the battlements, standing firm as he popped the enemy Heavy between the eyes, dropping him. Allen hadn't seen the enemy Spy at all during the battle. He must have wizened up and was slinking around, waiting in the shadows for him to come along.

"Aaaaaagh!"

Allen heard the pained cry. It was nearby, and he only managed to catch a glimpse of the RED Spy falling onto the ground. He scrambled over onto his back, but his head turned back sharply and he was still, the sound of the gunshot that killed him still ringing in the air. Allen felt a swell of rage, and spotted the edge of the BLU Spy's sleeve before it disappeared. Allen took out his kukri and decided to go after him.

He slunk through the halls, sticking to the darkest areas. He dove into a pile of hay when he heard footsteps coming from the stairwell leading up toward their respawn. He watched and waited. He saw nothing, but heard the footsteps coming closer. This was as sure a sign as any that the Spy was up to something. The footsteps stopped, and the BLU Spy decloaked around the corner, just out of sight of respawn.

_The bloody bastard is gonna kill anyone who comes out of here…_

Allen was slow and cautious in his movements, every twitch making the hay around him shuffle. He watched the Spy draw his knife and peer around the corner just as their Heavy wandered out of respawn. He rounded the corner, and Spy backstabbed him. Allen took this moment to stand, coming up behind the Spy and grabbing him by the shoulder. Before he man could register that someone had grabbed him, Allen buried his kukri all the way through the man's chest. The Spy spat blood across the floor and fell over after Allen yanked the knife from his body, cleaning the blade on the man's suit before he disappeared. Heavy lumbered out of the respawn, looking angry.

"BLU Spy is-!"

He noticed Allen and the Spy on the floor, who was now fading away.

"Sniper is good Spy-killer!"

Heavy laughed as he jogged away, heading back down to where the real fighting was. Allen sheathed his blade and pulled his SMG from its holster, carrying it with him as he hurried back up to the second floor.

The day ended just as Allen had predicted; a stalemate. It wasn't a victory, but it wasn't a loss. He took his shower, changing into another clean uniform. He figured he had better do his laundry, but he hadn't come across a laundry room at all. He would have to ask Spy the next time he saw him.

Allen stretched out on his bed. He didn't really feel like eating much. In fact, he felt rather…odd. He couldn't quite put a name to the uneasy feeling in his gut. It was as if he was being watched.

He checked around for the Spy, but he was not in the room. Allen would have smelled the strong scent of the tobacco on him if he were. He peered out his window, but saw no one. This only made the feeling stronger, and more alarming. He checked that his hatch was shut tight and locked, before looking around the room some more. He checked under his bed, but there was nothing there. Nothing in the closet, nor up on the ceiling. He couldn't shake the feeling, and it was making him feel more and more paranoid.

He peered out the window once again, frowning as he looked around the battlefield. The enemy Sniper wasn't even at his window, but someone else was. Their own Spy.

"What?"

He pulled out his rifle quick as a flash and turned off the laser sight. He looked through the sight and watched as his Spy stood against the wall, looking to the side while smoking a cigarette. He didn't seem to be looking in Allen's direction, but the fact that he was in the enemy base uncloaked was cause enough for alarm. Allen couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched the Spy, apparently having a very lively conversation with another person, making wide hand gestures as he spoke. Allen caught sight of a BLU uniform moving off to the side, and the brim of a familiar hat.

_Is that…the enemy's Sniper? What is Spy doing talking to him?_

Allen felt a sudden dread drop into his stomach. Was Spy a traitor? Conversing with the enemy was strictly prohibited…

Allen put the rifle down and ducked back behind his curtains. Perhaps it wasn't the feeling of being watched that he was feeling, but something worse. He just witnessed something he probably wasn't supposed to, and it had left him with a sense of betrayal.

_Nah…nah, I'm sure he has some reason for being over there and talking to the enemy…_

But, the more Allen tried to spare himself the thought of Spy being a traitor, the less he believed his own excuses. He growled and looked down the barrel again, sneering at his own spy. Darkness had finally fallen on 2Fort, the clouds overhead covering the stars and draping the field in a veil of intense darkness. Spy smiled and laughed at something, pacing out of view for a moment. Allen grumbled and put his rifle away, feeling like some sort of peeping tom.

"Tch…"

He opened his window and swung himself out onto the roof. He climbed up to the top and began pacing around on the level area. He wracked his brain for reasons as to why the Spy would be talking to an enemy he frequently killed during battle. It made Allen more upset than he should have been, the irrational anger slowly building in his chest. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he continued walking around in a big circle. He felt the splash of a rain droplet on the brim of his hat, looked up and felt another on his nose. He took off his sunglasses and hat, sighing as he let the beginnings of a storm sprinkle down on his bare arms and neck. He set his glasses underneath his hat and sat down, leaning back and taking off his uniform vest and shirt. The chill rain sprinkled down over him, covering his bare skin in goosebumps.

Soon, it was coming down pretty hard, soaking Allen through and through. He closed his eyes and periodically wiped the rain away. The sound of the rain pattering over the tin roof was a welcome distraction from Allen's conflictions, bringing his thoughts away from the troubling situation. He liked the man enough to want to keep his friendship, and he knew that exposing him to the team was a very bad idea. But, he also wanted answers. He stood up and looked down over the battlefield, watching the Spy. There was a flash of lightning in the distance behind him, and this seemed to make him stand out just enough to catch the Spy's attention. He held his breath as he and the Spy locked eyes for a moment. It felt like eons before Spy finally looked away and spoke a few words with the Sniper. Spy then excused himself from the room, and the blinds on the BLU Sniper's room were quickly drawn shut.

Allen turned away and headed further back onto the roof, sitting back down where he had been. The wind had begun to pick up, howling high above his head. Between that and the rain on the roof, he almost didn't hear the padding of bare feet coming his way. He closed his eyes once more, face turned up to the sky. He gave a heavy sigh, water dripping down his face and shoulders.

"…'Ow much did you see?"

Allen was silent for a moment, thinking.

"Not enough to be able to point fingers. Yet."

He turned around and gave the Spy a firm look, his green eyes like pools reflecting the deepest forest. The Spy was not wearing his suit, nor his shoes. He stood in a white, cotton tank top with a pair of loose-fitting brown slacks.

"Just what are you playing at, mate?"

Allen stood up, keeping his voice low enough not to rouse anyone from their sleep, but loud enough for his tone to take on a stern, almost menacing sound.

"You of all people should know about how dangerous it is to talk to the enemy. You, a conman, a-a master in the arts of deception and lies…"

Allen crossed his arms.

"Why? Why were you over there, talking to the enemy Sniper?"

"Sil vous plait, monsieur…'e is a friend of mine. We go way back. We met on zhe same plane coming 'ere, rode zhe same train, and zhen went to our separate teams to kill each ozher."

Allen rubbed his face and turned, looking back toward the BLU base.

"Can I trust you're telling the truth? After all…"

Allen looked at him, raising his eyebrows. Spy got the hint and nodded.

"I…would not lie to you. Unnecessarily."

"And how do I know that this is an unnecessary time to lie?"

"You just 'ave to trust zhat it is…"

Allen looked at Spy for a moment, the rain rolling down his face. Spy looked at him, his face still concealed behind his mask, the cloth quickly growing soggier with each passing minute. Allen turned away, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to be able to trust him, but he hadn't known him long, and he was an espionage artist.

Allen sat down, his wet clothes sloshing as he moved. Spy sat down with him, sitting back-to-back with the Australian. Allen felt the Spy sigh, and heard the wet slap of waterlogged cloth hitting the roof. He turned his head slightly, the side of his face meeting a tuft of coarse, dark hair. He turned a little further, trying to get a better look at the man behind him. Spy turned and looked at him from the corner of his eye. His narrow face was framed in dark curls and 5 o'clock shadow.

"…Mate?"

"Oui?"

"You alright?"

Spy chuckled.

"Oui."

He turned and faced Allen, who returned the gesture. He gave Allen a smile.

"I am willing to put my trust in you. Will you put your trust in me, monsieur?"

Allen looked the man over. Taking off the Spy's mask was something unheard of, at least, not in the presence of another teammate. Allen took this as a genuine sign that the Spy really did trust him enough to reveal his face to him. The least Allen could do was give the Spy the benefit of the doubt.

"Alright. I trust ya."

Spy smiled and reached out his ungloved hand, Allen taking it and giving it a firm shake to seal the deal. He hoped he wouldn't regret it in the end.

They parted ways before it got too late. Allen was soaked, and needed to dry off.

The next couple of days went on as normal. Allen would climb to the rooftop during the day, keeping an eye on his teammates and watching his back for the enemy Spy. He had come to develop a very keen sense of selective hearing. He was always alert and listening for certain sounds, making him a tad paranoid at times, but saving him more often than not. The BLU Spy had kept to himself, focusing his attention on the other REDs rather than letting himself become obsessive over killing the bushman. This made Allen uneasy, wondering why the Spy was holding back. Had he really spooked him that much?

The weekend couldn't have come soon enough. Allen was happy to slide his way down the roof when ceasefire was called that Friday. His shower was short, and his nap was long. He woke up to the light of the moon shining between the clouds, the light filtering in through the blinds on his window. He had finally received some after putting in a request through the Medic. The man seemed to have some sort of tie to the Announcer, or at least the people she worked with, and he had been able to acquire a set of blinds for Allen.

The sky foretold more rain to come, and while Allen loved the rain, he had already taken his shower, and didn't really feel like sleeping with wet hair. So he decided to stay in, and watched as a sprinkling of rain began to fall from above. He leaned up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He opened his mouth and let out a yawn, swinging his legs out of bed. He stood and gave a great stretch, popping his back and shoulders.

The blinds parted for his fingers as he pulled them apart, peering through them to the other side. The BLU Sniper was nowhere to be seen. He and Allen had a sort of friendly rivalry going on, seeing who could chalk up the most kills at the end of the day. Allen had taken to the habit of notching the wall with each kill, aiming to be faster and surer with each day. The BLU Sniper still had a better score, no doubt, but he had all the time in the world to bring that up. Allen had no particular desire to really one-up the enemy, but it was something to occupy his mind as he took shots at his enemies.

Allen withdrew from the window, looking back toward his bed. He contemplated just crawling back into bed and enjoying the sleep while he could get it. Another part of him nagged at him to walk around. He sighed, finding himself at his closet and tugging on his boots. He put his hat on, leaving the sunglasses tucked away in his breast pocket. They glinted in the light of the hall as he climbed down the ladder. It must have been really late, for even Demoman wasn't up wandering the halls in a drunken stupor.

The lights of the hall were dimmed after hours. He walked toward the kitchen, but found nobody. He thought about going outside, but decided against it. He felt restless. He just wanted to move around, but didn't know what to do. Just as he had decided to go back to bed, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He expected to see his Spy, but before he could turn around, that hand came up to his throat and a black glove was briefly visible before hard fingers dug underneath his chin and began squeezing his airway closed. Allen reached for his knife, but his wrist was grabbed by another hand and painfully wrenched behind his back. He opened his mouth to shout, but his throat was crushed closed.

"Make a sound, and I will kill you. Walk."

Allen hesitated before snorting and beginning to walk in the direction he was being pushed. He found himself being shoved back toward his bunk. The Spy pushed him toward the ladder, his knife to his back.

"Up."

Allen grunted and started to climb, but as the Spy began to follow, he stamped on the man's hand, making him yelp and drop his knife. Allen then planted his foot in the Spy's face, knocking him off the ladder. He leaped down onto the man and pinned him to the floor, his kukri pressed against the Spy's throat.

"Thought you would just lead me on up to my bunk and kill me dead, huh? Thought you'd do away with me, yeah?"

The Spy swallowed, his adams apple scraping on the shape blade at his neck.

"Sil vous plait, hear me out! I only want to talk!"

"Talk? You're a bloody spook, you can't talk. You only spin lies."

"Please!"

Allen gave him a long, hard look and pushed the blade harder against his throat. It would be so easy to just end this all right now. The Spy must have sensed the thought crossing his mind, because his eyes grew distant. He breathed a sigh.

"At least give me the dignity of smoking a cigarette before you gut me?"

Allen frowned, pushing himself to his feet. He motioned with his knife for the Spy to move up the ladder.

"Up."

"Very funny."

"Did I fuckin' stutter?"

The Spy rolled his eyes and climbed up the ladder and into Allen's small room. He had been in this room many times before, but seeing it relatively neat and clean was a change. Allen shut and locked the trap door, then moved to stand by the window, in case the Spy tried anything funny. He watched as the man pulled a case from his suit jacket and popped it open, sliding a cigarette from within and lighting it up, sighing the smoke out through his nose. Allen crossed his arms, but kept his kukri in hand.

"If you're going to talk, you'd best do it now, before I throw you out the window."

"I just had a couple of questions for you."

"And what makes you think I'll give you any honest answers?"

"Because you are not like me, nor my counterpart."

Allen sniffed. It was true, he wasn't like them. He wasn't a very convincing liar to begin with.

"What kind of questions?" he asked after a long pause.

"Zhat depends on whether or not I will be gutted afterward. If so, I won't even bother asking."

"I'm still deciding that for myself," Allen said, glaring at the Spy. "Now either ask your bloody questions or get out."

"I will gladly leave."

"Well I won't let you. Not after what you just pulled. I'd have to be a bloody idiot."

"Noted."

Allen felt a hot flush of anger rise in his throat, but he breathed it out and tapped his foot.

"I can wait all night, mate."

"I cannot."

"Then I suggest you get on with it."

"Very well."

The Spy took a long drag from his cigarette.

"How do you do it?"

Allen frowned.

"Do what?"

"Adapt. I have been a spy far longer zhan you have been a sniper, yet you have learned many of my tricks already. I've all but exhausted my basic techniques."

"That's a bloody brilliant way of saying you've been going easy on me."

Allen stepped forward, the Spy taking a step back until he was up against the wall. Allen blocked him in, knowing that if he were like him in any professional way, he would hate being boxed in. While the Spy did not show it, Allen could see the flicker of discomfort in the man's eyes.

"Listen here, mate. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret."

He raised his knife threateningly, tracing the point along the Spy's neck. He thought he saw a twitch of the man's lips. He felt triumphant, making his enemy so uncomfortable. It was pleasing to know he could strike some level of fear in his otherwise level-headed adversary.

"I don't like it when people go easy on me in a fight. It isn't really a fight if one of us isn't trying our damnedest to survive. Alligators don't give any leeway to the man wrestling 'em. I would suggest that you do the same. Otherwise, we're going to have problems - big problems - and I have ways of taking care of those problems, as unsporting as they are."

The Spy's face never changed, but he got the message.

"Oui, I get it."

"Good. See to it that you remember."

Allen stepped back toward the window, the bars of moonlight passing ominously over his figure.

"To answer your question, I've been living in this bloody desert for as long as I can remember. You learn how to adapt to everything, especially if someone comes for your head on the job."

"Never did I expect for someone like you to wise up to me."

"Someone like me? Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're a filthy bushman, for one. You've got about as much sense as a sack of bricks. You've no sophistication whatsoever…"

"You're digging your own grave, mate."

"I figure I've nailed my own coffin already."

"That you have, but I was actually contemplating letting you go after this."

He seemed to pale a little after that. The Spy tugged at the neck of his balaclava.

"Erm…well uh…"

He gave a coy smile.

"Sorry?"

Allen grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and dragged him away from the wall. After fumbling with the latch, he kicked the hatch open and threw the Spy unceremoniously to the floor below.

"Get out. The next time you try to 'talk' to me, it had better be during the hours that respawn is operating, or you'll be one intestine less."

The Spy only groaned before the hatch slammed shut and locked above him. Allen put his kukri away and climbed back into bed. It was too late for this shit.


End file.
